Elves and Angels
by Warrior of Ice and Shadow
Summary: Just read, I wouldn't be able to summarize it even if I wanted to. Written with Shiro using Google Docs. R&R, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:  
Of Elves and Angels

A very tall young man was sitting next to an ethereally beautiful young woman. He wore a white Egyptian cotton T-shirt tucked into black hadji pants, a black short sleeve button-up unbuttoned over it. His black running shoes had nothing special about them, they were running shoes, after all. His shoulder-length hair was tied back by a piece of black leather, revealing slightly long, pointed ears. He wore a pendant that was a wolf's head as it howled, over a moon with seven stars.  
His name was Marilion Kevaethrin, and he was an Elven Lord, who had been sent to Britain to learn defensive, offensive, and warding magics. His companion was the sole surviving Angel Lady as her ethereal beauty claimed. She wore a black slimming dress with thigh high boots. Her long silver hair perfected her angular face. Over her shoulder she held a white leather jacket. Her full red lips in a small frown and her bright green eyes danced from person to person, observing.  
"Marilion, what are we doing here again?" Her voice was harmonically beautiful.  
"The Quidditch World Cup is one of the many ways to collect information. I'm watching the Ministry wizards, Miana," said Marilion, his posture becoming better suddenly. "Oh, Goddess, Bagman's coming."  
Miana sighed then plastered a blinding smile on her already gorgeous face. "I can't wait to get out of here," she mumbled out of the corner of her mouth.  
"I'm regretting coming already," he muttered in reply. A hearty laugh was her only reply. "Bite me." Miana held herself on her toes and said in his ear, "Maybe later."  
"Kinky," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. Miana rolled her eyes and looked back at the action on the field, giggling. Marilion grinned unrepentantly, but took the hint, also looking at the field. He saw a red-headed boy staring at them in shock, and said, "Kid, what are you at?" Miana looked to see who he was talking to then said, "Don't be rude Marilion," turning to the red-head boy, "and it's not polite to stare, little one."  
The red head jumped, before saying, "It's Ron, not kid or little one. What _are_ you?"  
Marilion simply gave him a flat look, then turned his back on Ron. A bushy-haired young woman immediately dug into Ron, hitting him over the head with how rude he was when Miana sighed, looked apologetically at Ron and turned her back on him, too.  
Marilion heard, "Slimy gits," from Ron, and turned to look. A pale man with a pointed face and white-blonde hair, his son, and what he assumed to be his wife were settling themselves when Bagman charged into the box.  
"Everybody ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"  
"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.  
"And us?"remarked Marilion, gesturing between himself and Miana, who smiled at him. Bagman looked from Marilion to Miana, then back at Marilion, trying to remember something.  
"Elven Lord," Marilion sighed, rubbing between his eyes with irritation. "She's an Angel Lady, remember?"  
"Ah, yes, yes of course, uh..." Bagman did not seem to have remembered.

"Forget about it," Marilion said, shaking his head. Looking cautiously at the two strangers he took out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said, "_Sonorus!"_ and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.  
"Ladies and Gentlemen... welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"  
The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clean of it's last message (_**Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!**_) and now showed **BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0**.  
"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"  
The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.  
"I wonder..." Before Miana could finish, the eldest of the red-heads whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. _"Veela!"  
_"Wha..?" muttered a black-haired boy, but before he could finish asking a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and the black-haired boy's question had been answered. Veela were women... except that they weren't human. Which didn't really surprise either Marilion or Miana, but what did surprise them was the effect it had on the male wizards. Marilion closed his eyes to listen to the music, tapping his foot along with it.  
"HEY YOU!" he heard Miana yell. His eyes snapped open and looked around at what she was yelling at. It was the black-haired boy, he was standing and had a foot on the edge of the box.  
"Harry, what _are_ you doing?" said the bushy-haired young woman to the black-haired boy, snapping him out of his trance. As the boy was pulled back down into his seat, other angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry was with them; Marilion could see it in his face, and flicked his fingers at the kid. Harry jerked as the wandless spell hit him, forcing him out of the trance he'd been in.  
Marilion simply shook his head, and turned back to the game, wishing for a quiet glade deep within a forest. Bagman wasn't done yet though. "And now," he roared, "kindly put your wands in the air . . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!"  
Next moment, what seemed like a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. Miana snorted. "Hey Marilion, do you think the gamblers are upset at the fools gold?" she said scathingly, jerking a thumb towards Bagman, who immediately paled, but attempted to continue.  
"I think it'd give them heart attacks, considering it doesn't last long, and goblins don't accept Fool's Gold," replied Marilion, leaning back and closing his eyes. Miana chuckled and leaned against him.


	2. A letter to you, the reader

**Dear Reader,**

**I'm sorry that I haven't continued this story recently, but my muse seems to enjoy jumping from story to story, so I'm not entirely sure how long it'll take for me to update the story. Sorry, but I hope that you'll forgive me. Eventually, anyway.**

**Thanks,**

**Warrior of Ice and Shadow**


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